


you're the tylenol I take when my head hurts

by KHart



Category: Professional Wrestling, WWE, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/F, Fluff, but it doesn't last long, it's gone like a bandaid I promise, it's pining though, there's a whole lot of pining, there's like .2 seconds of angst, this is mostly pure fluff, we deserve cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 16:05:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16200935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KHart/pseuds/KHart
Summary: The five times Charlotte gave Becky a massage + the one (actually two) time(s) she has the favor returned





	you're the tylenol I take when my head hurts

**Author's Note:**

> I was requested to write a Charlynch massage literally months ago, and I just couldn't finish this idea for the life of me, so I'm sorry it's like a million years late. 
> 
> The prompt morphed into this, and, so, obviously, the massages are looser in terms than what you would usually think a massage would be. I hope you enjoy anyway!
> 
> Also! This is in no set timeline. There is almost no canon at all.  
> \---
> 
> The title is from "Best Part" by Daniel Caesar and H.E.R.
> 
> \---
> 
> My Tumblr is Flairfatale.

**I. Feet**

The first time Becky plopped her feet down on Charlotte's lap and asked for a foot massage, Charlotte had looked at her incredulously, as if she had lost her mind. 

"Um, I'm sorry? Did you just say, 'foot massage?'" she asked, just before she pushed the woman's legs off her. "Um, no. I'm not touching your feet."

Becky groaned before bringing her limbs right back into their original position. Charlotte cut her eyes at her.

"Come on, Char. Please? They're really hurting tonight for some reason. I'll owe you one. I  _promise_."

Becky pouted then, poking her bottom lip out, and Charlotte felt her resolve weaken.

She hated herself for it.

"You know I'd do it for you, if you asked."

Charlotte spent a few more seconds glaring right back into Becky's eyes, and then, with a low growl of defeat, she took her friend's right foot into her hands.

"Only this once," she said.

"Of course," Becky grinned at her. "Thanks, Charlie."

"Yeah, yeah," Charlotte sighed, knowing that she could never let Becky know that her smile was enough to make her keep doing it.

\--- 

Cut to two years later, and Charlotte giving Becky a foot massage was not a sight out of the ordinary. At least, not for them.

(Because Becky _did_ eventually find out that if she just pouted at Charlotte for a few moments, her request would be granted. Much to Charlotte’s chagrin.)

So, it became a frequent occurrence, whether Charlotte liked it or not.

 _So_ , on another Monday, when Becky came over to the couch Charlotte was lounging on in one of the backstage areas, in one of the more private rooms where she was watching some sort of recap with Naomi, she didn't even need to ask at all. 

Charlotte just lifted her arms up to allow her to place her feet down in her lap, and then she simply went about working through the tension in the ball of Becky's right foot.

Her eyes never left the TV screen that the show was playing on. When she was finished with Becky's right foot, she just tapped the woman's leg lightly to get her to switch them out before starting to massage the left one. 

It was a well-oiled and worn routine, and neither one of them thought anything of it.

Naomi, however, was looking at them, studying them, intently.

Another few minutes passed of the same before their friend finally broke the silence.

"Okay, could you two  _be_  any more domestic?"

Both of their gazes came to land on the other woman, similar expressions of confusion contorting their features.

"What?" 

Naomi just gave them a more pointed look and gestured at their positioning.

“Oh!” Becky exclaimed first, before shrugging. “What can I say? Charlie, here, is perfect wife material." She wriggled her feet a little. "I did well for myself.”

She grinned over at Charlotte happily, and Charlotte returned it more softly, trying to ignore how her heart skipped a beat. Naomi's eyes lingered on Charlotte a little longer than necessary, and, since Charlotte knew she was see through, she refused to meet her eyes by looking back to the TV.

A second passed.

"I'll say," Naomi finally responded. "I can barely get Jon to give me a foot massage if I beg."

Charlotte breathed out some air in amusement. 

They all settled back down, and, though she kept stealing knowing glances, Naomi didn't mention anything about Charlotte and Becky again. 

When she got up to search for Lana a little bit later on, Charlotte watched her go with mild relief, but when her eyes came back down to land upon Becky, she frowned. 

Because, instead of watching the show like Charlotte had thought she was doing, she was staring off into space, at the wall a little bit aways from the TV. 

Her eyebrows were knitted together, and her lips were drawn in in that way that meant she was thinking deeply. 

And Charlotte didn't want her brooding or getting too into her head about whatever had suddenly started to bother her.  

So, she loosened her grip just enough to be able to tickle the bottom of Becky’s foot with her fingertips, and that drew a surprised noise— _I do not squeal, Charlie!_ —out of Becky’s lips.

Becky started to smile again, and that was enough for Charlotte to excuse the indignant poking of toes into her ribs.

**II. Shoulders**

Title defenses were always nerve-wracking. Even when they were on Smackdown and not a pay-per-view. Charlotte knew that better than almost anyone around. 

She also knew that there really wasn't anything that could be said to alleviate the anxiety that pooled in the stomach and back of the throat. 

But that didn't stop her from trying anyways. For Becky. 

"You got this," she whispered, her fingers squeezing and kneading at the muscles of Becky's shoulders. "This is your night."

Becky bounced a little on her toes, blowing out a puff of air, and then she turned around with a grin, as Charlotte dropped her hands back down to her sides.

"I've got this," she repeated, shaking out her arms and her nerves. "I'm Becky Balboa, right?"

"Right," Charlotte returned with a smile of her own. "Go out there and give ‘em a hell of a show, champ."

She lifted her right hand again, this time with her pinky out as offering. Becky linked her own around it. 

"You'll wait up after?"

"There's no place I'd rather be."

**III. Scalp**

There were a lot of things that Charlotte learned about Becky as they became friends.

Things like how Becky preferred the color yellow over the color red. How Becky liked her tea black most of the time. How Becky drove with the windows cracked to even out the cold of the air conditioning.

You know, the simple things.

As they became _closer_ , however, Charlotte learned the more intimate things. Some of them still simple, just more significant.

She learned about Becky’s dreams. Her insecurities. The way she looked when she’d just woken up and was complaining: “Charlie, I swear if you don’t turn that light off right now, I’m going to Bex-plode you back onto your bed.”

She learned just what to do to make the other woman feel better. She learned the cues of when she should step closer and when she should step back. She learned the difference between the moments when she should hold Becky’s hand and when she should hold her together instead.

She learned about Becky, just as Becky learned about her.

And one of those things that she had become aware of was that Becky sometimes had trouble sleeping. (And by sometimes, Charlotte means _a lot_ of the time.)

She said it was the jet lag and the stress, and Charlotte completely understood that, better than a lot of other things. 

She just wished she could help in some way.

Because Becky lying a few feet away, in her own bed, tossing and turning and truly wanting nothing more than to get rest, always made Charlotte’s chest hurt.

Because Becky worked so hard, always, and she deserved to get some sleep before she picked back up again in the morning...

Which brought Charlotte to her predicament, as the time on her phone told her it was well into the next day, and Becky still couldn’t seem to find the right way to lie to get her body to relax.

She had been listening to the woman huff unhappily for about ten minutes, for the entirety of the time after she took out her headphones to go to sleep herself, and she was feeling guilty for not noticing earlier.

So, she decided she needed to try to do something this time.

And there was really only one thing she could think of that _might_ happen to help.

She sat up some.

"Becks," she whispered into the darkness. 

There was moment of more shuffling sounds, and then a soft, "Yeah?"

Charlotte bit her bottom lip briefly, wondering suddenly if she should just say 'forget it' and ignore the misery she knew her best friend was lying in. 

But then Becky asked, "What's up, Charlie?" next, fully rolled over at this point and propping herself up on her elbow, a look of concern on her face that Charlotte couldn't see through the darkness. 

So, Charlotte sighed before steeling her nerves and forcing herself to follow through with her plan. A stupid, stupid plan, though, she was suddenly convinced. 

She pushed her covers off of her and stood, instantly hating how cold the air was against the exposed skin of her legs and  _just then_  realizing that she was  _not_ , in fact, wearing sleep shorts like she usually did.

She almost swore out loud, as her heart started to beat a little faster. 

She came up on the edge of Becky's bed, and then she could finally see the woman's eyes, looking up at her tiredly, near blearily.

"Scoot over," she said, wanting to sound firm but coming off more fidgety than anything. 

Becky just raised her eyebrows at her, even as she did as she was told and shifted her body over enough to allow room for Charlotte to climb in.

Charlotte almost shivered against the warmth of the sheets where Becky had been lying. As soon as she was settled more, she moved her left arm, the one closest to Becky, and summoned her friend closer.

"Put your head on my shoulder."

Once again, Becky did what Charlotte instructed and rested her cheekbone against the juncture where Charlotte's shoulder met her torso.

Charlotte hesitated for only a second, feeling her heart stutter sharply at the contact, before she brought her arm back up and around Becky's shoulder and buried her hand in Becky's hair.

She closed her eyes.

"My mom used to do this when I had trouble sleeping," she explained softly, as she gently began to press the pads of her fingers against Becky's scalp. "After a nightmare, or when I was sick, or because of stress. Anything really. It worked every time. I figured you had nothing to lose at this point, so we might as well try it."

Becky chuckled lowly, her breath puffing out warmly against Charlotte's skin and almost sending a shiver down Charlotte's spine. Her voice rumbled in her chest, and its vibrations made Charlotte's bones tingle.

"Well, you're right 'bout that. I have got nothing left to lose. Can't seem to fall asleep for the life of me."

Charlotte lightly dragged her fingernails towards the back of Becky's head and up again. 

"Yeah. I noticed."

She felt Becky's facial expression shift better than she could've seen it.

"Was I keeping ya up, lass?" the woman asked through a frown. "I'm sorry. I didn't—."

"No, no," Charlotte interjected gently. "It's okay. I was just up, I think. Had my earbuds in, and when I took them out is when I noticed you were tossing and turning."

Becky relaxed some. 

"Oh, ok." She snuggled in just a little closer. "Well, I'm still sorry, just in case you're being too nice and lying to me."

Charlotte smiled, soft and warm. 

"You're forgiven, Becks. Try to get some sleep. We've got a busy day later. They have a surprise for us, apparently."

Becky just hummed in response, sounding slower and calmer already. 

Charlotte continued to knead the skin of the woman's scalp in a way that was almost feather-light, long after she believed Becky to be asleep. 

Her muscles were getting tired and shapes were drawing themselves across the backs of her eyelids when the feeling of an arm curling in around her waist made her feel wide awake again. 

She cracked her eyelids open to see that Becky was still lost in her dreams, snoring softly with a peaceful expression on her face, and then she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

Because, well, shit. How was she supposed to get back to her bed without waking the other woman, now? 

It had seemed a difficult task _before_ , but with Becky's embrace around her firm and almost final, Charlotte knew that moving away would be almost impossible to do without causing her friend to stir.

She was trapped. (Not with any amount of disdain or displeasure, mind you, but still trapped nonetheless.)

She let out a soft sigh, resigning herself to settling in for the night. She scooted down some, just so that she could have access to the pillow she’d been using to support her shoulders.

Becky’s grip on her tightened in protest, and Charlotte stopped moving again.

And, huh? Who knew Becky was an actual _cuddler_? A hugger, Charlotte was already aware, but a cuddler was interesting.

It was also far too endearing for Charlotte to actually think about, so she decided to close her eyes again and try to ignore it.

And who knew what would happen, really?

Maybe Becky would move away in her sleep, so Charlotte could go back to her bed and not feel so out of place and in the perfect position all at once.

Or maybe she wouldn’t, and Charlotte would be able to enjoy one of the few times where she got to hold the woman she loves without fear of judgement or rejection.

It was all up in the air. Just like always.

Just as Charlotte's heart was on her sleeve, just like always.

She bit down her bottom lip again.

If only things didn’t have to be so _complicated_.

If only things didn’t have to be so messy and incomprehensible.

If only there was something other than the weight of Becky’s head on her shoulder that was grounding Charlotte to the Earth...

She let out another sigh, this one a little heavier, slightly louder.

That arm around her waist moved up slowly, lazily, until a clumsy finger pressed against her lips.

“Shh, Charlie,” Becky mumbled, sleepy and a little slurred. “Stop thinkin’, ‘nd go to sleep.”

Charlotte was too surprised to find a proper reply, but Becky didn’t seem to have the consciousness to really wait for one, because her hand fell limp then, right on top of Charlotte’s chest.

She started breathing deeply again, already having fallen back into the realm of her dreams, but Charlotte, once again, couldn’t follow suit.

Because Becky was aware, in some way, that she was curled around and against Charlotte, and she didn’t care.

The skin where Becky’s fingertips were resting tingled.

But Becky was also asleep and sleep- _deprived_. So, it didn't mean anything if she wasn't aware that she was doing it, right? 

No. It was just _instinct_. The natural seeking of warmth when you’re resting.

All that mattered was that Becky was finally sleeping easily. It _didn’t matter_ that it resulted in Charlotte becoming her personal pillow, and it didn’t matter if there was no deeper meaning to that.

Or that's what Charlotte thought, at least. 

She let her eyes close again.

She wondered, briefly, as she slipped off to unconsciousness, what the surprise Creative told them about would be. 

**IV. Jaw**

It was another draft.

The surprise was that they were being faced with another draft.

The meeting had just ended. Charlotte and Becky had been ushered out of the room so that another few superstars could be given the news.

"Aren't surprises usually supposed to be good things?" Charlotte asked, as soon as they were alone in some abandoned hallway, walking back towards the locker room.

And she wasn't expecting an answer. Not really.

But the look on Becky's face had made the horrible knot in her stomach tighten even further. It had made her feel just a little sicker. 

She bit down on her tongue to try to focus on something else, but by the time they made it to their destination, Becky was very, very close to full-on panicking.

Which meant that Charlotte was too, but only in the more silent way that she’d learned to perfect.

Her eyes were trailing along behind her best friend, as the woman walked back and forth between the walls in the locker room.

Her right leg was bouncing up and down as she sat on one of the benches. Her fingers were entwined together too tightly to be comfortable.

Becky was making her more nervous than she was initially.

(Because the woman wasn't _this_ distressed the last time they had been split up, and she had _cried_ then.)

Charlotte wiped a subtly shaking hand across her face.

"Becky," she called, trying to catch the woman's gaze. "Becks."

Becky stopped pacing, but her hands found their way into the fiery-colored locks of her hair, pulling and tugging restlessly.

"Becks," she said again, closing the distance between them since the other woman was finally still. 

She reached up to tug at Becky's frazzled hands, to draw them away and to hold them in her own. She gave them a soft squeeze.

“Come on, sweetheart, look at me.”

Charlotte brought her hands up to frame the woman's face, forcing their gazes to connect. 

"Breathe," she said softly, near imploringly. "Just breathe for me, please?"

Becky did so, stiffly. 

Charlotte began to use her thumbs to gently work the muscles of Becky's jaw, in an attempt to alleviate some of the tightness there.

"We're gonna be okay, Becky. We're gonna be fine."

"Charlotte, they're probably going to split us up. Please tell me how that's, in any way, fine."

Charlotte's jaw quivered briefly.

"I didn't say that  _it_  was fine. I said that  _we_  were going to be fine. And we are." Becky's gaze flickered away, to some place over her shoulder. "Becks, stop. Look at me. C'mon."

Their eyes reconnected, and Charlotte so hated how Becky's looked glassy with emotion.

"You're my girl, right?"

Becky nodded, her eyebrows still creased and knitted with upset, but her expression softer then. 

Charlotte smiled faintly.

"Okay," she said, as if that one answer spoke for itself. "Well, then that's that. Because if you're my girl, and I'm yours, then we can get through anything."

Becky sniffed some, the tension in her jaw relaxed finally underneath Charlotte's touch.

She leant her forehead against Charlotte’s own.

“I just hated the last time we were separated, lass.”

“I know, love. Me too.”

“I’ll miss you.”

“No, you won’t. ‘Cause I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you, alright?”

Becky nodded faintly.

“Yeah. Alright.”

Charlotte just swallowed around the lump in her throat and brought Becky in for a full hug.

They'd be fine. Either way.

They always were.

**V. Hands**

Waiting backstage on the day of, with the rest of the superstars, was torture.

Knowing that she or Becky could be transferred to Raw at any second, in an instant, was like strutting precariously on the edge of a cliff.

They were both silent, staring at the screen and wondering if they’d once again be forced apart, after growing back together so strongly.

Almost everyone was quieter than usual, actually, because drafts never ended with happiness being the primary emotion.

People got used to their routines. People got used to each other.

Shaking everything and everyone up tended to ruffle some feathers.

But, of course, they’d all just bite it down with a smile. That was their job, after all.

They were meant to be actors, and acting like none of it bothered them was their most well-worn task at that point.

So, as Charlotte glanced over and noticed that some of Becky's real feeling was starting to show on her face, she did the only thing she could think to: She initiated contact. 

She reached over quietly, without too much speed, and pressed her fingertips lightly to where Becky's closest hand was balled up into a fist atop her lap. Some of its tension released immediately at her touch, but not completely. So, she extended her fingers further, she curled them around Becky’s own and forced her hand to flip over so her palm would be face-up.

She then brought her other hand over to cover Becky’s fully and bring it closer to her.

She squeezed the woman’s fingers lightly until the tightness of them finally loosened all the way, and then she used her thumb to gently massage the heel of Becky’s palm.

It was an action that had proven effective, before, in calming Becky down. And, really, that was all Charlotte wanted.

So, they sat in that position for a while. Still not speaking but trying to soak up as much comfort from one another as they could.

Charlotte’s grip tightened slightly when Sasha was shown with a new blue background. Then with Nattie.

Two big names moved to Smackdown.

Her breath rattled horribly within her lungs. Her footing on the cliff proved unsteady.

A moment passed.

Stephanie opened her mouth and gave a small build-up speech, but all Charlotte could interpret was her own name being called and then a ringing settling deep within her ears.

She felt as if she was falling. Her feet dangled in the air, as she grasped desperately at the top of the precipice.

Becky’s fingers fastened suddenly around her own, halting her movements. Charlotte’s jaw tightened.

She turned her head to meet Becky’s eyes.

They shared a few moments of silence together, and then Stephanie’s voice filtered back to them.

Charlotte heard only the back end of the name: “… Lynch!”

But it was enough.

Because Becky’s eyes lit up right in front of her. This time what they shared was a grin. 

Charlotte brought the back of Becky’s hand to her lips and pressed a quick kiss to it.

She still had Becky by her side. And that's all that mattered. 

**VI. The one time she has the favor returned**

Charley Horses are a _bitch_. An absolute and _complete_ bitch.

"Charlotte, sit still and maybe I can actually help some."

Charlotte grits her teeth and grips the edge of the bench. She points her toes up at the ceiling, in an attempt to activate her cramping muscles. 

"See, this is why we stay _hydrated_  when we decide to work out for ungodly amounts of time."

Charlotte narrows her eyes.

"Becky, I do _not_ need to hear your disapproval right now." She flexes and tenses her arms because she has no other outlet for her pain, and she feels like she needs to punch something. "What I _do need_ is a saw. So you can amputate the leg."

Becky rolls her eyes, fondly. She continues to deftly use her fingers to massage the knotted muscles in Charlotte's right calf.

"Oh, please."

" _I'm sorry_ , how about _you_ take this Charley Horse yourself, and _then_ scoff at me."

Becky pinches one of the sorer spots, and Charlotte inhales more sharply.

"Wouldn't it just be a horse for you, Charlie?"

Charlotte scowls.

"Do I look amused, right now? I hope the answer's no so I'm not misleading you."

Becky chuckles at herself. She reaches over for the hot water bottle she'd brought when she first came over to assist Charlotte, and she presses it against the area she'd just been rubbing.

She holds it in place for a bit, and, eventually, the tautness throughout Charlotte's body lessens enough to where she doesn't feel like she could snap instantaneously. The pain in her leg dampens and diminishes enough for her to unclench her jaw. 

"Better now?" Becky asks with a raised eyebrow. 

"I don't appreciate your lack of sympathy," Charlotte says by way of response. "You know what, you can massage your own feet next time they hurt at the end of the day. How's that?"

Charlotte gingerly brings her legs back towards her before turning to sit sideways on the bench. She pushes herself up to stand, and once she's balanced, she spends a few moments just experimentally transferring her weight between her good leg and her bad one. 

"I have sympathy!" Becky exclaims. "I just took care of you, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but you made it feel like an _obligation_."

Charlotte starts to walk back towards where she had been working out, to find her water bottle and collect her things. 

Becky grabs ahold of the fabric at the back of her shirt so that she has to stop in her momentum before she's even started. 

"Now, you know that I don't feel that way, lass. Come on."

And Charlotte's not really mad. She knows that Becky takes care of her because she wants to. 

But it is fun making her prove it sometimes. 

So, she turns around only to cross her arms defiantly. 

"Charlie."

Charlotte lifts her nose up some more.

"Charlotte."

Fingers ghost across the skin of her stomach, where her shirt has ridden up. Her abs tense instinctively. 

Her eyes come down to meet Becky's sparkling ones.

Arms move slowly to wrap around her waist and pull her close. 

"I love you."

Charlotte softens. She can't help it. 

A smile settles in. 

She hums lightly as she brings her own arms up to rest over Becky's shoulders. 

"I _guess_ I might love you back," she replies with a grin.

Becky lets out a thoughtful noise. 

"What if I told you I'd give you a more thorough massage later?" she asks, leaning in until her lips are barely brushing against Charlotte's own. "Would that help me in my standings at all?"

Charlotte's gaze gets more heavy-lidded.

"Yeah," she breathes out. "I think it would, actually."

Becky gives her a fuller kiss now.

"Then go get your stuff so we can get out of here."

Charlotte's leg supports her weight a lot better after that, as she moves to grab her things.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!
> 
> My Tumblr is flairfatale :)


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